That night, in the family room, I was sitting alone with the events of the day weighing heavily upon my mind when I spotted something I had not noticed before. It was a thick, old and faded book on the large book shelf that grandpa had kept his documented works as a private investigator. It was grandpa's passion to solve crimes that inspired you to do the same.
"I don't think I've seen this book before." I mussed, pulling it from the shelf. "I remembered always seeing a space..." I then froze, my heart beginning to race. "There was always a space here... an invisible book?"
At first, as I looked at the cover, it seemed blank but then words slowly began to appear as I, unknown to me, began to disappear from view. The book had the title, 'Journey into the unseen'. I was too wrapped up with finding this book that I had not taken notice that I was invisible and read the first page, it was addressed to me...
'To my dearest granddaughter, if you are reading this, it means that I have finally passed on to the next world but do not grieve, I have lived a long and happy life. Also, I am now free to tell you who you truly are..'
I teared up, not wanting to think that my grandfather was gone but I continued to read as what he had written down must have been important to only tell me after his passing. That and I was curious by what he had meant 'who I truly am.
'By now, you have discovered that you have the ability to vanish like a ghost. This power is usually only passed on to the first born son but, for some reason, fate had chosen you, the first born daughter, to have the power instead. You have the ability to phase slightly out of existence, giving you the powers of a ghost. Everything is carefully explained inside this book I have placed some of my own power into so only you may see it. Use your new power wisely... -All of my love, always, grandpa....'
"So, I have a power that is normally passed on from father to son." I whispered. "Is that why dad rarely talks to me, because he wanted a son?"
I began to cry at the thought until I heard dad's voice reply, "That's not it at all, Susan..."